


SYSTEM RECOVERY: TRON

by noimthequestion



Category: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types, Tron - Fandom, Tron: Uprising
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26866465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noimthequestion/pseuds/noimthequestion
Summary: As Kevin, Quorra and Sam make their way to the portal they are under attack by Clu & his personal assassin Rinzler, as Rinzler makes a revealing discovery, to his true history.
Relationships: Tron (Tron)/Yori (Tron)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue

“RINZLER! TAKE THE SHOT! FINISH THE GAME!”

COMMAND IDENTIFIED: TERMINATE TARGET /FLYNN/

Finish the game, the phrase continues repeating inside of Rinzler’s mind. 

Finish the game, finish the game, finish the game, finish the game- 

A brief light flashes inside of Rinzler’s mind, memories through another’s eyes of a place much brighter. Colours unknown to the eyes of Clu’s personal assassin and bodyguard, colours that the visor would not be allowed to perceive. Colours that shift and change with movement, that flow like the Sea Of Simulation. 

COMMAND IDENTIFIED: TERMINATE TARGET /FLYNN/

The prompt runs again, as Rinzler’s grip around the triggers of his light glider tighten against the creaking of his leather like gloves, his eyes tighten on the feared face of the young user named Sam Flynn, his face grimaced with anticipation of the coming volley of fire a moment comes in a wave of pain, of loss and of regret.

“Flynn GO!” 

The name Flynn, why does it know this name? And why does it bring these feelings of pain it has never experienced up to this point? Rinzler hesitates and pulls away to let Clu finish the game-

“The game.” Rinzler repeats. The game. 

Sark. The MCP. The game grid. The old system. Yori-

MAJOR SYSTEM MALFUNCTION ATTEMPTING RESTA-

Rinzler’s mind is shattered as through the veil like a bat out of Hell another program identifies itself.

SYSTEM ADMIN CHANGE? 

CONFIRMED PROGRAM: TRON

DATA RECOVERY COMMENCING

The memories begin flushing back as a scream of anguish fills the mind of Tron, his eyes dart back down at his betrayer, the one he called brother. Clu. 

With no hesitation, Tron begins his descent and in his mind begins a solemn apology and prayer for those he has lost, for those he failed and for those who have been hurt by his inability to act.

“For Yori my love, for Ram my brother. For those who died protecting the Grid, for those who fought in my name and died for my home, for Able. For Beck, for Kevin Flynn. And for Alan-One.”

Tron begins to spear target Clu, revving the engines as he feels the heat and strength behind his thrusters. 

“I.. Fight for the USERS!”

Tron juts the thrusters forwards as he braces himself for the impact, Clu hears and screams in fear as the explosion of their dueling gliders splinters bits across the skyline, the cracking boom of the explosion deafening Tron briefly as pure white noise fills his mind as he feels himself falling.

Quickly waking and catching himself, rolling from his back onto his chest and grabbing the spare glider from his thigh and preparing to ignite it and follow Flynn to the portal, as he does his body is rocked and is being thrown into a fight with his former master Clu. Tron fights as Clu throws an elbow to his head, Tron still dizzy and confused from both the shock of being awoken and from the explosion of his gider barely puts up a fight, holding as long as he can onto his glider while Clu pulls himself back and kicks Tron in the face repeatedly, over and over as Tron loses grip and begins to lose consciousness while he tumbles and rolls in the air, eventually crashing onto his back. The impact of the sea knocking him out again, as his suit loses its colour of dark orange, shifting to black as light fades from him, before blinking like a newly placed lightbulb, into a shade of light blue.

And as he sinks into the sea of simulation, he is whole once again, no longer a puppet of Clu. He is Tron, the video-warrior of the Users..

Chapter One

The rising tides and crashing tides of the Sea Of Simulation have stilled, the distant hums of Recognizers and of Clu’s command ship have silenced, all that remain are the sounds of Tron’s body drifting and briefly surfacing above the water. His mind blank, nothing but white space as a ringing and whistling is constant in his ears.

SYSTEM REBOOT UNDERWAY: ESTIMATED COMPLETION PERCENTAGE / 43.6 / 100

Tron’s body lies in wait, cresting the seas while his system purges the remaining remnants of the beast that held control over his body for so long. His body dipping back under and above like a buoy in a raging storm. 

“Tron, what have you become?” 

“What have I become?” Tron thinks to himself, “The programs I’ve deleted, the friends I’ve made suffer, Kevin. I need to make sure he’s okay, as soon as I’m able I need to go to the porta-”

Tron turns around, opening his eyes for the first time since he woke, the act of looking is pain enough but the realization that nothing is left? He knows. He knows what Kevin did to defeat Clu, “You shouldn’t have had to- I should’ve- Kevin, I’m sorry..” Tron thinks to himself, as he begins to drift towards a small shore with a few placements of rock spiraling into the sky. Pushing out with his hands, gripping the grey sand like material between his gloved fingers as the light glowing from his knuckles covers the ground around him, quickly crawling further to the land, rolling over to his back, as he mentally orders his helmet to be removed. 

The internal hissing and turning of metal inside tucks the remaining pieces within his back securely, as he attempts to stand, his legs shaking and he can barely keep himself steady as he collapses to his knees on the sand. Pushing his hands against his knees, forcing himself to face the sky, feeling the breeze of data brush across his face for the first time in so many cycles, never has he been so glad to feel the discomfort of sand between his old joints, to be dizzy and sick from the sea. Tron looks towards the horizon of what used to be the portal, holds back a stifled sob, and removes his disk. Looking down at it, he disconnects it, making a quick hiss and holds both halves in his hand, staring at them.

He takes the one half in his left hand and reconnects it to the port on his back. As he turns around, he forces himself to stand through the pain, no matter how much it may hurt. This needs to be done, he takes the disk in his right hand and proceeds to walk towards one of the spiraling rocks behind him, and walks a distance up the beach, far enough from the sea as to not be hit by the waves. He stares at the rock face, and places his left hand against it, before scrawling something on it with his right hand. The words “Kevin Flynn, I fought for him.”

Tron, underlines the text and places the other half of his disk on the ground below the writing. Kneeling down he begins to scroll through his memories, thinking back to a time long before he was ported to this new system, before Clu, before Rinzler, before anything of this time. 

He sets a memory to loop, a memory after he, Flynn & Ram escaped the MCP’s sick games, and managed to make it to a refuge, the memory is bright and colourful, not like this new system. The memory shows Tron’s view of Ram & Flynn laughing and drinking energetic fluid with their disks, the act making their lines glow even brighter. Looping for eternity, so that no one might ever forget him.

“What did Flynn call this? A wedding? No, no. I believe he called this, a funeral.. Something Users do when one of their own perishes. I hope that this is a close enough substitute, Kevin..”

Tron stands solemnly, as he lowers his head and internally a message fills his mind.

SYSTEM REBOOT COMPLETED: PROGRAM RINZLER / DELETED

A weight is removed from Tron’s back, as he breathes a hearty exhale, and he lets one tear fall for his friend. His black suit, slowly turning pixel by pixel to a bright white, looking back up and turning to the horizon, staring at it with dead drive. He’s got work to do.


	2. SYSTEM REBOOT: SUCCESSFUL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tron lives.

CHAPTER 2

Tron forces himself to stand, clutching his right knee with his hand while he places his left on the ground to lift himself up as he stares against the edge of the skyline. Climbing the spire of stone took more out of him than he thought, he’s old now. It feels only a few cycles ago something like this would’ve only taken a few seconds, but now? He needed minutes to catch his breath between each inch of movement he managed to make.

The wind runs across his body, rustling his short parted hair, pushing against him as he walks forwards the precipice. He closes his eyes, and tightens his grip on his disk, taking a heavy breath in before he lets them open slowly and begins to fall.

The wind tearing across him as he goes into freefall, his disk parting the clouds, each bit being sliced by it’s sharpened edge. He spots his target. A fleet of recognizers, no doubt searching for their fallen master. He targets one in the far back, left alone. He smirks to himself.

“Feel like this is something the kid would’ve done, diving without a glider onto an enemy ship.” 

His smile fades as his mind is filled with thoughts of worry and fear, he purges the thoughts from his memory. He can’t focus on that, he’ll worry about them when he’s able. Right now he needs to get back to the Grid, back to Argon.. He pulls his arms to his sides and rockets himself towards the Recognizer before pushing his arms forwards and tucking his knees into his chest to brace against the cold metal of the ship, he slams and he feels himself nearly pass out from the pain, his disk sliding down the side of it as he attempts to stop a shout of anguish, he can feel his shoulders begin to buckle and nearly slide out of socket, if he hadn’t have braced himself with his boots he’d be in the water now.

“The end of the mighty Tron, splattered like Gridbugs against a light line.” He forces himself to laugh through the pain briefly, he allows himself a moment to collect himself before he climbs up the thruster of the Recognizer, grunting and moaning in pain as he manages to reach the top. Pulling himself to his knees and rolling his shoulder in a perfect circle, keeping his disk ignited and at the ready, he runs to the front edge of the Recognizer as his boots squeak and leave track marks across the perfectly shined and flat roof of the ship, sliding himself off the top on his side and gripping the edge of it with his right hand as he throws his boot through the glass wall, splintering it into hundreds of individual shards across the room as the pilot can barely compose themself from the shock.

The sentries in the back block their eyes as the three blackguards in stasis wake, and reach the elevator to the top. Their doors open and a solid white suited program is standing in the middle of the room, wind rushing into the cockpit, blowing against his light brown hair, with small streaks of grey around the ears.

“Program identify now!” One of the sentries from the door shouts as he and the other start to walk towards Tron.

Tron smiles, for the first time in so long he can say his name. His real name. 

“Tron.” The one word makes the other programs stare at each other in fear, as the blackguard immediately ignite their disks. The sentries quickly turn to anger as they charge Tron with their staffs shouting a cry of anger and frustration.

Tron blocks both, ducking under their weapons and sliding his disk across the under side of them and sliding onto his side reflexively throwing his disk from his hand to quickly bisect the two sentries in a single, swift toss. Making them crumble into bits while their digitized screams are quickly silenced as his disk bounces and ricochets across the walls. 

The three blackguards grunt and charge Tron with their disks ignited, he moves with their attacks, walking backwards and ducking each high kick they throw. Swiping and missing each slice they attempt. Tron smiles as he kicks the one in the middle across his chest, making him buckle in paint. Over his head as he falls Tron’s disk returns back to his hand as he pushes his free hand onto the back of the one falling over, using his weight and force to throw himself up and the blackguard to the ground. Tron jumps and split kicks the two still standing while he leaps off of the fallen blackguard and rolls to his knees, turning around and throwing his disk between the two remaining, turning them into thousands and thousands of cubes of data. Tron kneels to the final guard as he tries to steady himself and grabs him by the tubing at the back of his neck and throws him out of the massive hole left in the ship as he screams in fear before being turned to bits as he crashes against the rocks below.

Only the pilot remains as Tron relocks his disk on his back, making a hissing, clicking sound as the pilot unhooks his disk, shaking in fear as he charges Tron.

Tron places his hand forwards and pushes his boot in front of the guard, smacking him across the chest and forcing him to trip, as Tron throws him on his back and grabs the disk out of his hand, placing it against the program’s throat. 

“Unless you want to be one with the creator, you’re taking me to Argon, program. Nod if you understand me.”

The program frantically nods as Tron walks him towards the piloting stick, forcing him to turn the Recognizer around, it’s weight shifts as it makes a low humming noise and leaves it’s group, heading to the city of Argon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOP FIGHT TIME!
> 
> Okay so, I'll be honest this is just filler until we get back to The Grid, still new to the prospect of fanfiction. So any criticism is well appreciated, hope you get a KICK out of this one Vince. Eh? Get it, ah I'll stop.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time using this site, so do forgive me for this one being kinda. Blegh? Gonna keep adding to this, the more ideas I get. 
> 
> FLYNN LIVES.


End file.
